


Such Great Heights

by tellmealovestory



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Carnival, F/M, Fear of Heights, Ferris Wheels, Fluff, Romance, kinda anxious reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:33:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23094130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tellmealovestory/pseuds/tellmealovestory
Summary: You and Bucky spend the day at the carnival ending the night on his favorite ride.Written for ussgallifrey's 700 followers writing challenge on tumblr with the prompt: "Do one thing every day that scares you." - Eleanor Roosevelt
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	Such Great Heights

_“Do one thing every day that scares you.” - Eleanor Roosevelt_

Cotton colored candy skies. Tongues and lips and teeth painted blue and red from icy cold snow cones. The smell of fried _everything._ People laughing and talking at decibels that wouldn’t be acceptable any other place. Long lines that wound through the park. Blistered and tired feet. Faces that were tinged red and pink from the hot sun blaring down on them all day. Tired smiles. Tired eyes. Children asleep in strollers. Balloons wrapped around wrists of the children who were awake. People clutching giant teddy bears and goldfish in bags that surely wouldn’t survive the week once they got back to real life. Glitter dotting the apples of girls cheeks. Smiles stretched wide from face to face. 

Cheers erupted around you. For a moment you’re confused until you see the cause. The carnival lights are turning on bathing the grounds in soft blues, bright reds, lively greens, golden yellows. The food stands are a blur of neons. Pinks and greens and purples. It’s beautiful, but it hurts your tired eyes to look at them for too long. 

A small step forward. Followed by another. And then another. You’re next in line. Your heart rate spikes, your hand growing sweatier in Bucky’s and you wait for him to say something. To ask if you’re okay. But he doesn’t. And when you look at him you see how _happy_ he is standing in line for the ferris wheel knowing you’ll be the next in line. You wish you could muster up some of his happiness, but you can’t. You can only offer him a gentle squeeze of your hand, a forced smile on your painted lips which he doesn’t take notice of. 

You’d do anything for him. Anything at all.

He could ask you to run away with him tomorrow and you’d do it. He could ask you to marry him on top of the highest building in New York and you’d do it. Never mind the fact that you’d miss your friends and family. Never mind the fact that you’re utterly terrified of heights.

In the back of your mind you _know_ that you should tell him. Tell him now and you _know_ that he’d take your hand and whisk you away. He’d find another ride for you guys to go on never mind that you’ve been on everything except the ferris wheel. He’d never make you do something that you didn’t want to do. 

But you _want_ to do this. At least that’s what you try to tell yourself as you take a shaky step forward. Your body moves on its own. You can hear the excited chatter of people surrounding you. Can vaguely make out the voice of the ride operator as you slide into the seat next to Bucky. Can faintly feel the way the seatbelt fits snugly across your lap as the safety bar lowers.

And with one final shaky look down at the ground where you would give anything to be the seat of the ferris wheel is lifting up, up, up.

It doesn’t matter that you can still see the ground you’re _terrified._ Your hand grips the bar, a quiet fuck spilling from your lips as the seat sways and when you shoot Bucky a panicked look he only presses a sweet kiss to your forehead and you know there’s no way you can tell him now.

A flurry of thoughts flit through your mind. None of them good. All of them disaster related from too many horror movies and your own anxiety making things seem worse than they really are. What if you get stuck at the top? What if the ride crashes to the ground? What if, what if, what if?

The seat lifts higher. This time shakier than the last and you want to curse out the operator. Yell at him to be gentle. For fuck sakes the signs on the back of all the chairs clearly says _do not rock._ And yet there he is down below safely on the ground jerking the ride lever as if he has no cares in the world, as if he doesn’t care that there are people on the ride afraid of heights, as if he doesn’t care if the chairs rock. 

The handle is slippery with your sweat and even though Bucky had promised you that the views up top would be worth it you can’t see anything with your eyes closed so tightly all you can see is black. Your teeth hurt from clenching your jaw and when he wraps an arm around your shoulder puling you closer to him you let out a quiet squeak when the chair rocks gently back and forth. 

“Bucky,” you try, your voice cracking and you swear if you start crying you’re never going to forgive yourself.

He had only asked you one thing today and that was that he wanted to go on the ferris wheel with his best girl. He wanted to see the views from up top. Wanted to share this with you. Steve had told you that when they were younger they used to ride it at Coney Island. Said it was always one of Bucky’s favorite things. And though this isn’t Coney Island he had still asked you to go on with him. 

Throughout the day you had made excuses. The line was too long. The sun was too hot. Someone had thrown up on one of the chairs. You had just eaten now wasn’t the time. You had just had something to drink now _definitely_ wasn’t the time. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t pressure you. Didn’t ask you more than once. You thought if you waited until the sun had gone down that it would be easier to handle. You wouldn’t be able to see as much therefore you wouldn’t be so scared. You had been wrong. So very, very wrong. With the carnival lights shining bright and dusk settling over the park coming on at night was way, way worse. 

“Honey, open your eyes, you’re missing the view.” His voice is soft, calming, _sweet_ against the shell of your ear and though you want nothing more than to do as he asked you can’t. 

Shaking your head you bite your lower lip refusing to open your eyes. You can’t tell how high up you are which might have been a good thing except for the fact that your mind had you convinced you were so high you could touch the sky. The chair stopped. Sucking in a deep breath you still didn’t open your eyes. Either the ride was stuck or you were finally situated at the top. Either way you weren’t ready to open your eyes to find out.

“I can’t,” you whimpered, the sound pathetic to your own ears and you hate that you’re ruining this for him. 

“Why?”

A beat passes. The chair still doesn’t move and you swear to god that it’s stuck. You’re going to be up here for the rest of the night. You’re going to _die_ up here. Oh god, oh god, oh god. The things that you do for love.

“Honey?” That sweet, calming voice again, the _patience_ and you know that now is _not_ the time to tell him, but that doesn’t stop you from blurting it out.

“I’m afraid of heights!”

There. The words are out there in the open and there’s nothing you can do, but hope that he’s not mad at you. It’s a ridiculous thought. You _know_ that. He would never be mad at you for telling him that, but it doesn’t stop your brain from thinking it. From focusing on that thought alone until the chair starts to move again, swinging wildly and you swear that when, no, _if_ you make it off this hell of a ride you’re going to tell the operator to get a new job or better yet take the advice on the back of each chair and _do not rock the chairs!._

“What?”

“Please don’t be mad at me. I was going to tell you, but then you were so excited about going on this and I didn’t want to disappoint you and I thought if I was with you it’d be okay,” you rambled. Cracking open an eye you watch him carefully. He doesn’t look mad which is a relief. Softening his eyes you lean into his touch when he pulls you closer, but that only results in the chair swinging and you find yourself hissing, your knuckles turning white against the handle. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I did tell you.”

“Y/N, no you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did.”

“When did you tell me you were afraid of heights? Doll, if I knew that I wouldn’t have taken you on this.”

“I told you, shit, shit, shit, _why does he keep doing that?_ ” You whined, as the chair reached the top.

Afraid to close your eyes and afraid to look down you don’t understand how you’re just reaching the top now. One flesh hand and one gloved hand reach up to cup your cheeks forcing you to keep your eyes steady on him and if your heart wasn’t racing so fast, if you weren’t so close to having a melt down on top of the scariest ride at the carnival you would kiss him for helping to center you.

“I did tell you,” you tried again, swallowing the lump in your throat when the chair doesn’t move to make a descent down. “I told you like... two minutes ago, Bucky, try to keep up.” Joking is the only way you know how to make it through this situation without bursting into tears and when you see him fighting the smile that’s threatening to curl his lips up you let out a shaky breath.

“That’s not what I meant and you know that.” 

“I know, but I just you were so excited and when Steve told me this you used to be one of your favorite rides I wanted to do something nice for you and I really thought I could handle this and I... _god damnit._ ”

“Hey, look at me, okay? You’re okay, honey, you’re okay. Keep your eyes on me,” he cooed. 

Nodding your head you do as he asked keeping your eyes on his which is harder than you thought it would be when the chair finally makes a descent backwards. You begin to breathe a little easier the closer to the ground it gets, but you’ve seen this ride before, you know that you’ll have to make at least two or three more times around which means more time at the top again. 

“What about the view? You wanted to look at the view.”

“I am looking at the view.” 

“Okay, _that_ is not what I meant and you know that,” you retorted with a roll of your eyes and a soft laugh. It’s the first one to slip past your lips since the ride started and slowly you begin to feel more like yourself. Not quite as anxious. Your heart rate isn’t spiking as fast. Your palms aren’t as sweaty, but your knuckles are still white. 

When you pass the ride operator you shoot him a death glare, too busy helping people on and off he doesn’t notice, but it still makes you feel a little bit better until you feel the chair starting to climb back up to the top. 

“Ya know the first time I saw you I was afraid to talk to you.”

The comment is so random that you can’t help gaping at him. “What? Why?”

Shrugging his shoulders he licks his lower lip. True to his word he never takes his eyes off of you. The pad of his thumb brushes across your cheek and you find yourself leaning into his touch.

“Cause you were so confident and cute and even though the coffee was awful I kept coming back to see you.”

“God, Bucky I was anything _but_ cute and confident in those uniforms.”

“Ya gonna let me tell the story my way?”

“I guess...,” you teased.

“It took me months before I got the nerve up to talk to you and that was only because Stevie and Natasha made me. You probably don’t remember it, but when I went to ask for your number I couldn’t stop shaking. Same with our first date and our first kiss.” 

Smiling softly you remembered that. Not the same way he did of course. The two of you had met at a coffee shop where you had been working at the time and even though he thought the coffee had been bad you lived on that stuff to get you through your college classes. You remembered him coming in nearly every time you were working. Always sitting at a table near the back. Baseball cap pulled low over his eyes. It had taken you a few visits before you finally noticed him, but once you did it was nearly impossible to take your eyes off him. 

The night he had finally asked for your number it was just you working. He had been your last customer and as you had been wiping down the tables he had come up to you startling you out of your daze you had jumped before shooting him a sheepish smile when you saw him flinch. Both of you had apologized at the same time, but the damage had been done. He had been awkward, clumsy, _shy._ Nothing like the sauve ladies man from the forties you had grown up hearing stories about. You wouldn’t see peaks of that until much later when you guys had been dating for close to a year.

“And every time I gotta leave you for a mission I still get scared,” he murmured. “The point is it’s good to do stuff that scares you every once in awhile. Look where it led us. If I hadn’t gotten the nerve to finally get your number we wouldn’t be here.”

Letting go of a shaky breath you loosen your hold on the bar seeing that the ride is _finally_ almost over. Three chairs are ahead of you and you’re finally brave enough to tear your gaze away from Bucky’s and look down. It’s still scary and you almost wish you hadn’t, you’re still too high up for your comfort level, but you take his words to heart.

“Look at me, doll.”

For once you’re grateful that he can read you so well and you do as he asks.

“I’m okay.” You’re not sure if you’re saying it for his benefit or yours. The ride operators movements are still jerky, the chair continues to sway causing your stomach to swirl with nerves despite being closer to the ground. You know that you’re not going to be able to fully relax until your two tired and blistered feet are back on solid ground.

Two chairs are ahead of you and with his hands still cupping your cheeks, with his beautiful eyes never wavering from his you ignore everything. The bright carnival lights, the sounds of people laughing and screaming, the way the chair swings with every movement, the off key music from a cheap band playing one hit wonders from the eighties under a tent filled with drunk people. You focus on Bucky and only Bucky.

Leaning forward you crash your lips against his trying to show him with one kiss how much you love him, how much you appreciate him, how much you love that he opened up to you and told how he was afraid to talk you, how he still got scared to go on missions even after all this time, how much he showed you sometimes it was okay to be vulnerable, okay to tell someone that you were scared. Releasing your sweaty hands from the safety bar for the first time since sliding into the seat your fingers curl around his shirt pulling him closer to you.

One chair is ahead of you, but you pay no attention to it or just how close you are to getting off. All you focus on is the way his lips feel chapped against yours from the sun hitting them all day, the way he tastes of sugary sweet cotton candy and powdered sugar from your shared funnel cake. You focus on the way his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, the way you part your lips allowing his tongue in. The way he’s able to pull moans from you, the way his hand slides from your cheek to the back of your head bringing your lips closer to his.

And when you’re next in line to get off you don’t notice that either. You don’t notice the cough from the ride operator, don’t notice the uncomfortable stares from people waiting to get on, don’t notice their impatient tapping feet against the steel walkway. All you notice is the way Bucky pulls away slowly as if he’s afraid he’ll never feel your lips against his again.

Everything happens too fast and too slow at the same time. Bucky’s eyes are glazed over and you’re sure yours are too. His hand drops from your cheek and the back of your head, your fingers uncurl from his shirt as the safety bar is lifted. Unbuckling the seat belt you watch breathlessly as he stands up before turning to you and holding his hand out. Taking hold you giggle as he pulls you up. Your legs are shaky from nerves at being up so high, but he doesn’t let you fall, would never let you fall as his hands reach out to grasp your waist in an attempt to steady you. Still a little shaky when you follow him down the three steel steps you take a deep breath when your feet land on concrete. Finally on solid ground again.

Turning to watch the Ferris wheel continue its slow descent you’re mesmerized by the lights, by the people growing smaller and smaller as the ride goes higher and higher. Standing on the ground looking up it doesn’t look so scary anymore.

“Bucky? I think we should go back on it,” you said, turning your attention back to him.

“What about your fear of heights?”

Pursing your lips to the side you know that you can handle it if he’s by your side and you don’t look down.

“I know, but you never got to see the view from up top and if you tell me I was the view I’ll smack you,” you teased.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, darlin’.” He replied and you don’t miss the hesitancy in voice.

The fact is you know he’s probably right. You’re not sure you can stomach another round of the ride operator carelessly swinging the chair. Not sure if you can stomach being so high up, but you also know that his earlier words were true. It _is_ important to do things that scare you at least once a day and how bad could the second time be? You already know what to expect.

“Maybe not, but I want to. Wasn’t it you who gave me that speech about conquering fears? I’ll be fine. I promise.”

You don’t quite believe the words and by the way his eyes are appraising you you can tell he doesn’t either.

“That was different,” he sighed.

“Please? I _want_ to do this for you.”

Without giving him a chance to object you grab his hand pulling him to the back of the line. Your hand never leaves his, your heart never stops pounding, your breath never quite coming out in the slow steady way it should. But none of that stops your feet from moving forward every couple of minutes when the line shifts.

Ignoring the pointed stare of the ride operator you slide into the seat with Bucky right at your side. And when the safety bar comes down and you see Bucky giving you one more look that says you don’t have to do this you only kiss his cheek before laying your head on his shoulder.

Much like last time the chair swings every couple of minutes with jerky movements anytime someone gets on or off and when you stop at the top you can hear Bucky suck in a deep breath. You may have been willing to go on again, but you know there’s no way you’re looking down. Burying your head in his neck you close your eyes focusing instead on the way he smells like sun and sweat and woods. To anybody looking at you all they would see was a couple in love.

Unsure if it’s the fact you’re curled up next to Bucky or that this is your second time, but the ride seems to move faster and before you know it you’re back at the bottom and stepping off the ride.

“How was the view?” You asked once your feet make contact with the solid ground again.

“Better the first time.”

Knitting your eyebrows together it takes you a second, but when you get it you slap his shoulder playfully.

“Shut up,” you tease.

Leaning down he kisses you softly. “Come on, I wanna win my best girl the biggest stuffed bear they have.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think and follow me on tumblr @tellmealovestory


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